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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855330">Two Truths and a Lie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/priscilladm/pseuds/priscilladm'>priscilladm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the missing scenes [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood &amp; Manga</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Humor, F/M, Heymans "I get my love of fun from Dad" Breda, Jean "I can still party in the hospital" Havoc, Kain "I'm the youngest and can't hold my liquor" Fuery, Riza "I don't know how to do feelings" Hawkeye, Roy "I'm the fun parent" Mustang, Royai - Freeform, Team Bonding, Team Mustang ships Royai, Team as Family, Vato "The North might be good for me" Falman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:27:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855330</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/priscilladm/pseuds/priscilladm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon receiving their respective reassignment orders, the Mustang Unit decides to have one last outing before they're all shipped off and separated. Team bonding and tenderness ensues.</p><p>Takes place directly after the events of episode 29 of FMA:B.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Riza Hawkeye &amp; Team Mustang, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang, Roy Mustang &amp; Team Mustang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the missing scenes [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“You all have your reassignment orders,” Colonel Roy Mustang says. “As of tomorrow morning, I am no longer your commanding officer.”</p><p class="p1">His tone seems flat and straightforward, but First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye senses his disorientation from her own desk.</p><p class="p1">She can’t blame him. They know nothing about their lives will ever be easy in the military, but they never could have anticipated things being this challenging or dangerous. She carries the burden of the Ishvalan massacre and somehow this feels even more perilous than being in a war zone.</p><p class="p1">There’s something sick and twisted about her specific new assignment. Unlike the others, she gets to stay in Central. And in fact, she gets to be even closer to what is going on at the very top of the military. But that’s the problem: she’ll be privy to things she can’t change, separated from the person she has sworn to protect, working directly for the person at the root of the corruption they’ve uncovered.</p><p class="p1">She’s prepared for a long, painful road ahead, but thankfully the initial shock has since worn off. She has been the consummate professional since then, these past few hours, as she always is. The rest of the unit has already seen too much, gone through too much. Still, she feels lost inside.</p><p class="p1">It gives her chills, thinking about what it will feel like to work for someone who she now knows isn’t human. As a boss, she wonders if he’ll be cold and calculating, or unsettlingly warm and friendly. For some reason, neither of those seem right—in the few times she has seen him up close, he’s always been cordial but distant, so she surmises this is probably the case even in private. As the leader of their military state, he’s probably effortlessly efficient, and he likely has a sharp memory, which in some ways might make this easy for her day-to-day life. But none of this is certain and none of this is safe.</p><p class="p1">She doesn’t know what’s in store for any of her colleagues, either. In the time they’ve been together, both in the East and in Central, they’ve become a makeshift family for her. She never expected to make friends in the military, but these are clearly good, trustworthy, respectable men who are skilled in what they do. Each has their place and they’ve grown close in their own ways.</p><p class="p1">And of course, there’s Roy himself.</p><p class="p1">She looks up and sees him thumb through the short bundle of papers directly in front of him on his desk before smiling faintly—so faintly, in fact, she’s likely the only one who notices.</p><p class="p1">“You’re in for a treat up in the North, Falman. Have fun with Major General Armstrong.”</p><p class="p1">Riza is the only one who laughs. She’s heard stories of the impenetrable, unforgiving Northern Wall of Briggs. Major General Armstrong can supposedly even make her younger brother, the Strong Arm Alchemist, whimper in fear. She sometimes wonders if she would have been better off there, away from espionage and corruption, but admittedly she hates the cold.</p><p class="p1">Warrant Officer Vato Falman smiles. “The records indicate she is well-respected and has a strong command of the forces there, even in spite of the harsh temperatures and lack of surrounding amenities.”</p><p class="p1">It’s obvious Falman hasn’t learned anything about Major General Armstrong from anything besides the records. Roy laughs.</p><p class="p1">“I’m sure her strong command helps temperatures rise quickly,” he remarks, a smirk permeating his lips.</p><p class="p1">“Sir, that’s inappropriate,” Riza scolds.</p><p class="p1">He shrugs without further response and continues to look through the papers on his desk, fighting to keep his eyes open. She knows he’s tired: they’ve been up for hours and haven’t had time to fully process the finality of the reassignments. When tensions are high and situations are stressful, she usually gets him a cup of coffee and that does the trick, but this is different. This is something coffee can’t help.</p><p class="p1">“Boss, don’t you think we should go get a drink as a last hurrah?” Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda asks.</p><p class="p1">Internally, she appreciates the suggestion—this group is important to her and she wants one more opportunity to spend time with them before they’re all shipped off to faraway parts of Amestris. But she also knows that every single move they make is being scrutinized. A drink, to her, isn’t worth it when there are greater things to accomplish.</p><p class="p1">“Do you all think it’s wise to go out as a group after we were just separated?” she responds.</p><p class="p1">Roy motions with his hand to brush off her comment. “Easy, Lieutenant. We all transferred here together from the East, so clearly we’re pretty close. It’d be more unusual if we just scattered without any kind of closure.” He smiles. “It’s like ending a long relationship. You have to feel like things ended on a final note.”</p><p class="p1"><em>I wouldn’t know</em>, she thinks to herself.</p><p class="p1">She doesn’t date, even though she’s aware of her best traits: she’s an articulate, attractive young woman with a stable income and strong head on her shoulders, and for those who care about this sort of thing, she’s also a decorated war veteran. There are many phone numbers scrawled on scraps of paper, given to her in all sorts of locations and promptly tossed into the trashcan upon her arrival home. She has perfected her “thanks but no thanks” body language and response when men try to join her at the bar when she’s alone; she lets them down gently when possible, but she isn’t afraid to flash a glimpse of her concealed firearm when some suitors get particularly aggressive.</p><p class="p1">All because no one ever feels even remotely close to being right. It’s probably because none of them have dark enough hair, or gloves that can start a fire in the air, or a voice that can start a fire in her heart.</p><p class="p1"><em>Not useful right now</em>, she reminds herself as she opens the manual of Fuhrer Bradley’s office procedures, given to her by Storch earlier that morning.</p><p class="p1">Master Sergeant Kain Fuery adjusts his glasses, which have fallen too far down his nose to serve their purpose. “Sirs, you don’t really think this is the end, do you?”</p><p class="p1">She doesn’t even look up as she flips through the contents of the manual disinterestedly. “Of course not, Fuery. We can always write to each other. And I’ll look forward to the day you can transfer back here.”</p><p class="p1">This is hard for her. She loves Fuery as the younger brother she never had. He’s sweet and generous, unmarred by combat, and incredibly adept at his tasks. And of course, he’s the reason she has Black Hayate. She’ll always have a soft spot in her heart for him, so in a way, her response operates more as a promise for the future rather than a mere possibility.</p><p class="p1">“Has anyone talked to Havoc recently?” Roy asks.</p><p class="p1">Everyone mumbles indiscernible excuses.</p><p class="p1">She knows it’s not because they don’t care about him. They’ve been so consumed in their own work that free time has been scarce. She feels a particular pang of guilt over the infrequency of her visits, knowing she could have been the one by Roy’s side in his initial fight with Lust down in the Third Laboratory.</p><p class="p1">Feeling frustrated with herself, she looks at him and sees a look of disappointment in his own eyes. It’s clear that he hasn’t been able to visit either. This disappointment fades quickly, though, as she sees his eyes dance in excitement.</p><p class="p1">“Let’s skip the bar and go pay him a visit.”</p><p class="p1">The group nods in approval. As their last day together, it only feels right to spend it with the person immobilized as a result of their work. For Riza in particular, Havoc’s current state frightens her because it also mirrors what her life under Fuhrer Bradley will look like: in close enough proximity to witness things, but still unable to assist in the most necessary ways.</p><p class="p1">Roy picks up the phone and dials quickly. “Hey Havoc. We’re dropping by after the work day to drink with you. We’ll bring the provisions. No objections!” He says this all smoothly and quickly, leaving no room for negotiation. In fact, once he’s done with his sentence, he simply hangs up without waiting for a response.</p><p class="p1">Riza frowns. “Sir, we agreed we were going to pay him a visit. We didn’t say we were going to drink with him.”</p><p class="p1">“I’ll bring the whiskey. Besides, it’ll be fun! It’ll be like we’re back East again.”</p><p class="p1">No one responds, but everyone knows exactly what he means: a time when all they were concerned about was pushing paper and making impressions, not protecting the lives of the entire nation from a vile conspiracy orchestrated by the top brass.</p><p class="p1">Ever the perceptive leader, Roy is quick to fill the silence in a way that still feels natural. “We’ll leave here together at 1800 on the dot and walk to the hospital together,” he states.</p><p class="p1">Riza laughs. “We can’t drink too much tonight,” she reminds everyone. “It’s important we make good first impressions at our reassignments.”</p><p class="p1">He shrugs. “Fine. But everyone should stay at least a little bit to say hello. He’s by himself in there, after all.”</p><p class="p1">She smiles at him faintly. His plans have been completely derailed by having all of his trusted team taken from him, but his first thought is still to make sure that Havoc doesn’t get lonely. People who only hear whispers of Roy wouldn't know it, but he’s the kindest person she knows, even if it isn’t immediately clear.</p><p class="p1">“Well, we’d all better get everything done quickly here today,” she says. She looks at Roy. “I don’t want to leave things in a mess for the next person tasked with the duty of picking up after you.”</p><p class="p1">Someone who doesn’t know her might think her tone is dry or harsh, but she knows these men understand her better than anyone else. Even though things feel hopeless and at a standstill now, it’s her way to remind the team to move forward.</p><p class="p1">And it’s a reminder to herself to keep going, too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've written lots of pure Royai and figured it would be a good time to incorporate the rest of Team Mustang. I love them all so much! Also, wouldn't be a fic of mine if there without some good ol' Riza angst, lol.</p><p>None of my works are beta'd so if you found a typo, no matter how minor, please let me know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Havoc grins widely when the team walks into his hospital room—so widely it looks like his cheekbones might shatter. It’s clear he has been spending the day anticipating their arrival because there is a long table and five chairs in a row next to his bed, likely to accommodate for the drinks.</p><p class="p1">“Glad you all could make it,” he says. “It’s party time. I asked the nurse to set us up here and give us some time alone. Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable.”</p><p class="p1"><em>He must be a fantastic party host</em>, Riza thinks to herself.</p><p class="p1">She has admired Havoc for a long time, but the past few months have been remarkable. Despite his own inability to use his legs he still maintains a positive outlook on life, and not once has he blamed anyone for his situation. His fun-loving nature hides the fact that he is a capable, committed officer, and she knows that whoever ends up with him will be a lucky person. His fierce loyalty and determination are difficult to find, military or not, and she’s grateful to have served alongside him in the time they’ve known each other.</p><p class="p1">Everyone takes a seat, and as usual, she takes a seat to Roy’s left. He sets down the bag he brought in and pulls out its contents: a large bottle of dark brown liquor and six shot glasses. With excitement in his eyes, he places the shot glasses on the table in front of each person, then the bottle in the middle.</p><p class="p1">“I said I’d bring the provisions, so here they are,” he remarks. He removes the cork from the bottle and fills each shot glass to the brim with liquor. Holding up his own glass as a toast, he states simply, “To us.”</p><p class="p1">The rest of the team follows his lead and they toast each other, mumbling salutations as their glasses clink. Everyone takes their shots in one gulp except Fuery, who starts coughing once he gets a whiff of the liquor. Not one to be outdone, and in an effort to be a good team player, Fuery throws the shot back and looks around to make sure the others haven’t noticed.</p><p class="p1">Everyone laughs, Riza included. As the youngest member of their team, and the only enlisted member, she knows that being part of a team of seasoned soldiers means he often feels like he needs to keep up. In reality, they all appreciate and respect him just as he is. She remembers being young and optimistic like him, but combat hardened her, and she hopes he isn’t subject to the same experience of being broken after he’s transferred.</p><p class="p1">“I’m sure we’ll all miss your inability to drink,” she remarks. “We’ll all have to remember to write to each other.”</p><p class="p1">Havoc looks at the team with a puzzled look. “Wait, what do you mean, you’ll miss him?”</p><p class="p1"><em>Of course he wouldn’t have heard</em>, she reminds herself. <em>He’s been discharged.</em></p><p class="p1">Fuery turns to their former officer-in-charge. “Our unit is being separated. I’m going to the South, Warrant Officer Falman is going north, and Second Lieutenant Breda is being sent to the West.”</p><p class="p1">The absence of Riza’s name is not lost on Havoc, whose gaze shifts in her direction. Few things make her genuinely uncomfortable, but the silence in the hospital room and the knowledge of her new assignment are both unnerving.</p><p class="p1">Ever the astute commanding officer, Roy quickly smoothes the situation over. “It’s exactly why Breda suggested we have one last hurrah,” he says calmly, without any indication that he is trying to change the subject. “Speaking of which, since this was your idea, why don’t you pick a game for us to play?”</p><p class="p1">She’s grateful for him stepping in; she’s unwilling to spend the remainder of her freedom reflecting in misery and would rather spend it enjoying the company of these colleagues who have become her family. She may not have mentioned her discomfort, but she’s aware she cannot hide things from Roy. It’s what makes their bond so special.</p><p class="p1">Breda grins, seemingly already prepared for this moment. “How about Two Truths and A Lie? Havoc and I played this game a bunch at the academy. You say three statements, but one is a lie. You hold up the finger for the statement you think is false. If you’re wrong, you have to drink.”</p><p class="p1">Roy smirks. “I love this game. I remember it well.”</p><p class="p1">“Ok. I’m thinking of a number between one and ten. Whoever guesses the furthest has to go first, then we’ll go clockwise from there.”</p><p class="p1">Falman and Havoc both guess ten, Roy seven, Fuery six, and Riza two.</p><p class="p1">Breda shrugs. “Sorry, Hawkeye. You first. My number was nine.”</p><p class="p1">She scrunches her mouth, trying to think of what to say. She remembers this game from her academy days, too. Back then everyone seemed to enjoy telling childhood stories to explain the truths and lies they shared, but the only pleasant memories of her childhood involved Roy, so she didn’t have much to add at the time. She hopes she can find something more pleasant to mention now that these years have passed.</p><p class="p1">“I have a dog, my last name is Hawkeye, and I have black hair.”</p><p class="p1">Breda rolls his eyes. “We know these things. Don’t insult us. Start over.”</p><p class="p1">She pours herself a shot and downs it quickly.</p><p class="p1">“Hawkeye, isn’t the point for us to drink throughout the course of the game?” Havoc asks matter-of-factly.</p><p class="p1">The rest of the team laughs, Riza included. She knows that they’re merely poking fun, and she knows she can trust them. It’s difficult for her to feel at ease given the circumstances, but she reminds herself she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her evening wallowing in self-pity at their situation.</p><p class="p1">“Fine.” She sighs. “My favorite flowers are roses, I’m an only child, I was born in a home instead of a hospital.”</p><p class="p1">She laughs as they raise their fingers to indicate what they think is the lie. As expected, the only one successful is Roy, holding up his pointer finger. Everyone else thinks she was born in a hospital.</p><p class="p1">“Drink up, boys,” she says as she pours shots for everyone except Roy.</p><p class="p1">“So what are your favorite flowers if not roses?” Fuery asks, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. He takes the shot quickly and nearly chokes on it, still not accustomed to its strength and clearly having not learned his lesson the first time.</p><p class="p1">“Dahlias.” Roy responds a little too quickly, barely even letting Fuery finish his question.</p><p class="p1">“How do you know?” Falman asks. “Dahlias only grow naturally in the West.”</p><p class="p1"><em>Idiot</em>.</p><p class="p1">Neither Riza nor Roy have ever told the rest of the unit about their past prior to Ishval. There’s really nothing to share—they’ve known each other since childhood as a consequence of Roy’s apprenticeship with her father. As with everything else in their lives, the agreement is unspoken, but very much real: they don’t open up that part of themselves to others because it’s one of the few things they can share privately.</p><p class="p1">She doesn’t want to share this particular story about Roy, and she doesn’t think he wants to, either. Logically there’s nothing wrong with a teenage boy giving flowers to his teacher’s daughter, but that story feels too personal, especially now. It’s for this reason she has to come up with a lie.</p><p class="p1">“I had the misfortune of having my date crashed by the Colonel one evening.”</p><p class="p1">“Now this, I gotta hear,” Breda says excitedly.</p><p class="p1">Roy rolls his eyes and shrugs. “I didn’t crash it. I didn’t know she was on a date.”</p><p class="p1">“On the first date, the gentleman asked what my favorite flower was, so I told him. On the second date, he brought one to me. I’m not sure if he transmuted it or if he somehow got one all the way from the West.” She shifts her eyes at Roy. “He ducked into the restroom momentarily and it just so happens the Colonel walked by to see me eating outside. He thought I was by myself so he took it upon himself to sit and keep me company.”</p><p class="p1">She’s impressed with the false backstory she’s able to create. He clearly agrees with this, because she feels his knuckles quickly graze the side of her calf in gratitude. It startles her a little since she’s not used to this form of communication with him, and even though his brief touch is on top of her dress blues, the feeling makes her cheeks feel burning hot while also sending goosebumps up her arms.</p><p class="p1">Havoc shakes his head. “You took her date’s seat. Smooth, Colonel. I’ve never known you to be the jealous type, so I hope you didn’t set the guy on fire once he tried to get his seat back.”</p><p class="p1">Riza wants to laugh at how preposterous this entire situation is: she’s in a room with her soon-to-be-disbanded unit playing a drinking game, and she lies about a nonexistent date being ruined by the man she’s in love with who happens to also be her commanding officer, and for whatever reason, someone thinks that same man might actually have been jealous. It sounds like a situation straight out of a romance novel. She doesn’t read that type of literature, but she’s heard enough about them from her best friend Rebecca to get a good sense of what they are like.</p><p class="p1">It’s clear no one knows what to say in response, so she expertly diffuses the situation. “Well, now everyone knows my favorite flower. Don’t send me any. Colonel, you’re next.”</p><p class="p1">He lets out a relieved sigh and a smirk washes over his face. “I’m allergic to dogs, I love a woman in a mini-skirt, I failed the required physical before enlisting.”</p><p class="p1">The rest of the group raise their pointer fingers with confidence and excitement, but of course, Riza knows the real answer. She raises three fingers and is amused at the fact that so few of them have any faith in their commanding officer’s fitness.</p><p class="p1">“I’m a little insulted that so many of you thought I failed my physical.” Roy pours shots for everyone except her.</p><p class="p1">Meanwhile, Fuery can’t seem to grasp the concept that the statement about dogs is true. “What do you mean, you’re allergic to dogs? You pet Hayate all the time!”</p><p class="p1">She smiles. “The Colonel always puts a glove on before petting him. I also have medication in one of his drawers in the office that helps prevent an allergic reaction should he get too excited and forget.”</p><p class="p1">Fuery frowns. “That’s not fair. You two have been together <em>forever.</em>”</p><p class="p1">The other members of the team quickly down their shots, uncertain of what else to do in the situation. He quickly realizes the implication of his words and chugs the liquor in his shot glass before anyone can stop him.</p><p class="p1">“Um, that’s not what I meant,” he stammers defensively. “All I mean is that you two have worked together forever, so of course you’d know stuff like that about each other!”</p><p class="p1">Attempting to mask her inability to read the situation, Riza smiles as she pushes the shot glass away from his reach. “I think I should take Master Sergeant Fuery home to make sure he gets back in one piece.” She notices Havoc and Breda exchange worried looks, and she wonders why.</p><p class="p1">Breda sighs heavily. “I’ll take the kid home,” he announces, though the lack of enthusiasm is not lost on anyone. “It’s my fault we played the game and gave him too much.” He elbows Falman in the rib and stands up from his seat.</p><p class="p1">“Oh!” Falman is clearly startled, but he also rises. “Uh, I will come with you, Lieutenant Breda.”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t have too much, and I’m not a kid!” Fuery yells, slurring his words and indicating he very clearly has had too much. Riza notices Breda pinch him just out of the corner of her eye, and he instantly sits up straight.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t worry, Hawkeye. I’ll write.” Breda offers a crisp salute and shifts his gaze to Roy. “To all of you.”</p><p class="p1">Falman nods and follows suit. “As will I!”</p><p class="p1">Fuery can barely manage to raise his hand to offer his own acknowledgment before he’s dragged away and out of the room.</p><p class="p1">Riza is disappointed that their goodbyes are comprised of a too-drunk Fuery being whisked out of a hospital room, but she still wouldn’t have it any other way. This is who their unit is. Interestingly enough, she’s confident that those three will be fine in their respective new assignments, despite her not being able to assist them. She’s more concerned about the person she has pledged to protect at all costs.</p><p class="p1">Havoc clears his throat. “You know, if you two are being separated, it’s probably not an effective use of your time to hang out with me in a hospital. Especially since no one even mentioned where you’re going, Hawkeye.”</p><p class="p1">“I’ve been assigned to assist Fuhrer Bradley. But it’s not just the Colonel and I being separated,” she replies, a little more defensively than she expects. “As Fuery said earlier, we’ve all been reassigned.”</p><p class="p1">It’s true, but the pain of her being poached from Roy stings more than she cares to openly admit—since Ishval, the two have been inseparable. She almost rather would have been sent to a faraway region like the rest of their unit, because at least she wouldn’t have the knowledge that he is in the same building as her but completely out of her reach.</p><p class="p1">Havoc grins at them both. “That’s true, but I think you’re a little more valuable, Lieutenant.”</p><p class="p1">Her heart leaps a little inside her chest at the suggestion, but she knows better than to let it show. Instead, she smiles at Havoc, half an apology for not being around and half an expression of her friendship. “I might have more free time since I won’t be looking after this one, so I’ll be sure to visit more often.”</p><p class="p1">“You know, you two, I’m right here,” Roy mumbles as he places the shot glasses and bottle of liquor into his bag. The two blondes chuckle at him, but he ignores them. “Havoc, much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. Lieutenant Hawkeye is in for a very important day tomorrow, so we should probably get going.”</p><p class="p1">“Whatever is going on, you two better be careful,” Havoc states. “I’ll be here for awhile, so let me know what you need.”</p><p class="p1">They both nod and say their goodbyes. She wants to stay longer, but Roy is right. Besides, it’s dinner time, and she also has to feed Hayate. She taps her foot on the ground twice as they make their way out of the hospital room and into the hallway.</p><p class="p1">“It’s a shame you had to cut Lieutenant Breda’s fun game short,” she remarks.</p><p class="p1">Roy shrugs, then nods twice in acknowledgment of the beginning of her message. “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t drink too much. And I seem to remember you also being particularly terrible on your first try of this game tonight.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes,” she responds flatly. “I’ll miss everyone, but I’m glad you’re still able to oversee Edward. It’s important that we have allies in this, whatever this is.”</p><p class="p1">He rolls his eyes. “I still think my organized sharp-shooter of a lieutenant would be a better subordinate to hang on to than a hot-tempered State Alchemist.”</p><p class="p1">“For a second there, I thought you were talking about yourself,” she chuckles, teasing him slightly. “In all seriousness, adjusting to the North is going to be tough, so I wonder if we can have Sheska pull some more information on the conditions out there under Major General Armstrong. I think Falman might appreciate that.”</p><p class="p1">“I’ll give her a call when I get home and see if she can expedite something to him before he ships off tomorrow.”</p><p class="p1">“Good.” Riza sighs. “But back to my original point. If you see or hear from Edward, you need to tell him about this. You remember what happened the last time you didn’t share vital information with him.”</p><p class="p1">They turn a corner and she uses this as an opportunity to click her heels twice, letting him know she’s finished with her message.</p><p class="p1">
  <b> <em>BE SAFE</em> </b>
</p><p class="p1">Roy shakes his head and brings his palm to his temple. “I’ll figure it out, Lieutenant.”</p><p class="p1">He stops in the middle of the hallway, his body trembling as he stares down at the floor. It’s unlike him to show emotion like this when others can see him, and it worries her. She knows now, more than ever, they need to be strong.</p><p class="p1">“Sir?” she asks.</p><p class="p1">He quickly scurries to catch up with her. She has never known him to scurry—he’s too elegant and composed to do that around others—but again, she knows not to say a word. They approach the entrance/exit doors in silence, Roy still hunched over and looking down at the ground while clearly avoiding eye contact.</p><p class="p1">“You know, I think I met Ida, your friend from the academy, in passing a few days ago at the store. I saw her with Lucy, who I met in basic training. Are they sisters? They look similar.” She hears his voice falter ever so slightly, and she wonders why, until she hears him cough twice.</p><p class="p1">“They are,” she responds, cracking two knuckles. “They say they come from an illustrious military family from the South, but I don’t recall ever reading about their family name anywhere. At least the Armstrongs are smart enough to drop their name when it matters.”</p><p class="p1">Roy laughs, fully breaking the tension in his body as his eyes move from off the ground up to eye level. “Don’t get started on that family,” he says. “Speaking of the north, though, I hear your friend Oscar has been transferred to Central. I guess he wasn’t cut out for Briggs.”</p><p class="p1">Riza smiles. “Oscar was always a little too gentle,” she responds. “Fuery reminds me a lot of him.”</p><p class="p1">They walk out of the large entrance/exit doors of the hospital and see the sun beginning to set as they make their way onto the street.</p><p class="p1">“I know he’s not fond of it, but I like the sound of the name Vato. You don’t hear something like that in the city much. I wanted to ask him about the origin of the name earlier, but apparently not everyone knows how to hold their liquor. I wonder if the Elrics know anyone with a name like that. Or maybe even Yoki…”</p><p class="p1">She knows, deep down in her heart, exactly what he’s trying to say. If she’s being really honest with herself, she’s always known, but she has never considered herself worthy of any goodness or affection from anyone, let alone the person standing with her. To hear him say this right when they have been ripped from each other and unable to even be together professionally hurts even more.</p><p class="p1">
  <b> <em>I LOVE Y</em> </b>
</p><p class="p1">“Those four were scheming tonight, weren’t they?” she asks, looking into his eyes in an attempt to stop him. She’s not ready to confront her own feelings, nor is she equipped to unpack this near-confession from him. He’s only had one drink so she knows he really means what he’s saying, and the prospect that he’s telling the truth is equal parts relieving and frightening.</p><p class="p1">He grins sheepishly at her. “Can you blame them?”</p><p class="p1">She sighs back. This sigh is a release of so many feelings: affection for her colleagues, gratitude for their time together, hope for their safety, worry about their road ahead—and of course, the ironic feeling of hopelessness resulting from Roy’s coded message.</p><p class="p1">“No, I can’t blame them at all.” She looks at him skeptically. “Were you in on their plans?”</p><p class="p1">He laughs and shakes his head. “No. Those men are smarter than you give them credit for.” He gestures to his right. “Well, I’m this way. Take care, First Lieutenant Hawkeye,” he says, walking away from her slowly.</p><p class="p1">She feels like her heart might implode, both out of affection and fear. This goodbye feels deeply dissatisfying and wholly anticlimactic, and she can’t shake the feeling that she’s supposed to do or say something. She doesn’t know when she’ll be able to see him again, and this thought frightens her more than death itself.</p><p class="p1"><em>I’m a fool</em>, she thinks to herself.</p><p class="p1">“I do too, Colonel. It’s how I know I’ll see you again soon.” Her voice is loud, but her tone is gentle. "Good night, sir."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There’s no way any of the Mustang unit DON’T ship Royai—they TOTALLY conspired to get mom and dad to at least confess to each other. I like to think if they didn’t take Fuery home, he would have spilled the beans on their scheming because that poor guy really can’t handle his liquor. (If it’s not obvious, I have a soft spot for Fuery just like Riza does!)</p><p>Anyway, hope you enjoy. I had a lot of fun writing this and showing off the personalities of each of the members of their unit! As always, if there are any typos/etc, let me know.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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